Hot Kisses
by Dorku No Renkinjutsushi
Summary: He'd give it all up for what he thought was love


Title: Hot Kisses  
Author: creepycrawly  
Rating: PG-16/M for mentions of sex  
Summary/Warning: He'd give it all up for what he thought was love.  
Song: Kiss-Kuchizuke: L'ArcenCiel, SMILE (Song 2, 2/27 answered)

Logic: It has to do with kisses, and burning desire, and I can bullshit my way through anything. We all know that!

* * *

Hot Kisses

Dark shadows filled the alleyway. The street outside was lit by red lanterns. It glowed with that sickly shade of blood, and the short boy found himself wondering once again if this was what he wanted. He thought, briefly, about his last mission and decided that yes, this was what he wanted.

He stepped out of the alleyway, swinging his leather-clad ass merrily. Long fingers undid the top two buttons of his shirt, letting the dog tags shine in the dim light and his chest show as a sign he was free. He smiled as he walked down the street. The Fire of the Red Light was back.

He was hot. He knew that half the men out on the street were there for him. He knew that the women were jealous of him. He knew that it was gossiped in the other villages that he put the Fire in Fire Village's red light district. He was hot, and he knew it.

A man waved him over to a side street. The boy went slowly, letting his dog tags gleam as a sign that he was one of the few called Shinobi, that he could defend himself if the need arose. The man nodded and beckoned again. The boy shrugged to no one in particular and sauntered over to the alley, pert ass swinging out of habit.

The man was on him in moments. Within seconds of the boy's body sliding into the shadows, the man's hot lips were on his, his arms pulling him close, tugging him flush with his own body. The boy didn't protest. Rather, he pressed himself up close into the older man's body, hands fisting in his shirt, moan leaking past nearly sealed lips.

The man grunted none-too gently. He broke the kiss, watching the boy's face as the thin string of saliva connecting their lips stretched and broke. As it did so, he placed his hands on the boy's strong shoulders, forcing him to his knees on the hard pavement in the alleyway. He knew that the boy could fight back, but he wasn't, and he wouldn't have been in this part of the red light district if this weren't the sort of thing he was selling.

Grunting again, he loosened his now-tight pants, panting as his hands fumbled with the fly. Finally, he got himself out and exposed.

"Suck it, boy," he grunted. His hands squeezed painfully tight on the boy's shoulders.

The boy said nothing. He opened his dark lips and brought the man into his mouth, dark, dark eyes never leaving his. As the man watched, a pale, hot, wet tongue swept out of that mouth and up his cock, leaving a wet stripe in its wake. His dark, dark eyes stayed with the man's as he sucked him into his hot, wet mouth and showed him a heaven that was really more of hell.

The man moaned, groaned, whimpered and panted as the boy's hot little mouth moved over him with the ease and skill of long practise. If there was one thing to be said about the Flame of Konoha's red light, it was that he knew what he was doing.

No one was entirely sure when the Flame had shown up, only that he had. They knew he was shinobi…or, at least, he wore the dog tags of one. The red light district wasn't strictly part of Konoha, but further in, in the closest small town of Fire Country. The village had more than its fair share of streetwalkers, because Konoha didn't allow them within the city borders. But as far as any of them knew, that's where the Flame had learned his trade.

And what a trade to learn. It wasn't odd, per se, to see young men and women walking the streets. After all, a town so close to a nin village was full of orphans, and sometimes, it was the only way to make ends meet. What was odd, however, was that the Flame had been young when he started…he hadn't even had the tan line on his neck that declared him a chuunin.

Now, however, the tan line was there, and it had been joined by a confidence that oozed sensuality at fifty paces. No matter what their owners wanted, eyes followed him everywhere he went. Men, women, it didn't matter. The Fire was the best of the best. He was more than just a streetwalker. He was in demand, and could choose whom he bedded. For that alone, the women and men who actually worked the industry both loved him and hated him. Loved him, because everyone did and it was unnatural not to, hated him because he drew their customers and business away.

Still, they all muttered behind his back. He was young—too young, they all said. He was pretty—too pretty, they all murmured. He was talented—too talented, they all hissed. He was smart—too smart, they all agreed. He was strong—too strong, they all argued.

He was special—too special, they all whispered.

Too special to be on the streets.

Too special to be alone.

Too special to be this promiscuous.

Too special to be this crazy.

To sum it up, in the words of one of the whores who worked for old Tamiyoko in the old 12th building, he was too special to be that absolutely fucking bat-shit fucked in the head. Clearly, something had gone wrong, and gone wrong in a bad, bad way. There was no other way someone as smart, strong, talented, young, and pretty (altogether, it could be put into one word—special) would end up doing the same things they did, and doing it willingly.

Some of them said he was ninja, that's why he was there. No one but a ninja ever got that sort of mind-trip. High level, they all agreed. That's why he was there. Only the high-level nin had so many mind games played on them that they started playing right back. Probably ANBU, they all whispered. That's why he was there. Everyone knew that to be absolutely fucked up, bat-shit crazy was all but a known requirement to be considered one of the Konoha elite.

But the boy ignored all this in favour of the lusty kisses he received in dark alleyways, when the red lanterns were lit, making the pavement shine. He ignored all the theories and mutters and secrets and whispers in favour of anonymous sex in anonymous places, where all his clients would remember is that they laid the Fire.

He ignored this all in favour of the heat of hot kisses in hidden alleyways.

Iruka ignored it all in favour of what he thought to be love.


End file.
